She was up all night.
Words crowded her mind. Piled atop each other, they kept coming
Impatient. Wanting to be picked.
Even the discarded ones pressed behind closed lids, trying to repeat.
A few slipped, surprising and lubricated by unexpected tears.
She tossed and turned. She wrote. She paced.
And still words tumbled. Filling every space.
In the small hours she ran the tub.
Prayed to soften the callouses
And the rough edges
In her mind.
As dawn rose, she was bare.
Not quite ready,
But word lulled.
For Sammi’s Weekend Writing Prompt of: Script in 100 words